


7 - Bestiality

by Bittodeath



Series: SubObi Week 2020 [6]
Category: Star Wars Prequel Trilogy
Genre: Anal Sex, Aphrodisiacs, Bestiality, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Jango Fett being a bastard, Knotting, Other, Sith Magic & Rituals (Star Wars), SubObi Week, Virgin Obi-Wan Kenobi, Virgin Sacrifice
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-02
Updated: 2021-01-02
Packaged: 2021-03-11 02:13:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,331
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28343700
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bittodeath/pseuds/Bittodeath
Summary: Written for SubObi Week: 7 - Bestiality.Padawan Obi-Wan has been captured by the two Sith Lords, post-Naboo, to be used as a virgin sacrifice to a power fuelling ritual. The Sith have decided to use a loth-wolf turned Sithspawned and trained by Jango Fett for that.
Series: SubObi Week 2020 [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2075316
Comments: 10
Kudos: 92
Collections: SubObi Weeks





	7 - Bestiality

**Author's Note:**

> _Akaan_ : war. Name of the Sithspawn.  
>  _Kandosii_ : well done.

Obi-Wan comes awake quite suddenly. The last thing he remembers is exiting the Temple to go see Dex and tell him in person about Qui-Gon’s passing. He can feel drugs in his body, already mostly purged – whatever it is knocked him out, surely. He can feel the Force, too, but he can’t quite reach it. Slight Force-suppressants, then. The Force is Dark and oppressive, wherever it is he is, and he’s cold, enough to get goose flesh and feel that his extremities are cold. His cock too – for some reason, he’s naked.

Naked, and bound in a really uncomfortable position, his legs bent back, his wrists tied tightly to his ankles, legs spread wide and exposed, shoulders wrenched backwards. He can hear the quiet jingle of chains when he tries to move, and the heavy weight of a collar around his neck. He’s dangling from chains, completely vulnerable.

Breathing out slowly, he opens his eyes. The first thing he sees is smooth black stone. Then, he notices the glyphs, and just looking at them hurts his head – Sith writing, then. A Sith Temple. He’s dangling above a Sith altar, of all places, _just_ above a Dark nexus of the Force.

“Knight Kenobi, how kind of you to join us”, a smooth voice says, and it has a coldness under it that makes his skin crawl.

He cranes his neck up, and meets sulfur-yellow eyes and a heavy, powerful presence that makes him want to wail like a banshee. His breath catches in his throat at the sight of the Sith Master – for it can only be the Sith Master. Most of his face is hidden by a hood, and so is the face of the Apprentice standing by their side. Force, there had been _three_ Sith – the Master, his Apprentice, and the one the Apprentice trained to take their place.

The thought makes his stomach churn, and when the Apprentice lower their hood, he knows he’s going to die. They wouldn’t uncover themselves otherwise. He gasps, eyes widening.

“No!” he breathes, recognizing the familiar, friendly face of the new Chancellor of the Republic.

His face is nothing close to friendly now, though – rather, it is twisted into a horribly pleased grimace, corrupted golden eyes staring back at him.

“We can now commence the ritual, Master”, the Chancellor says, turning to bow at the waist to the other Sith.  
“The ritual? What ritual? Force’s sake, why am I here?”  
“You killed my apprentice”, Palpatine replies. “You are a fitting sacrifice.”

So, he was right. They do intend to kill him, probably in atrocious circumstances and horrific pain. He can’t quite stop himself from gulping. He wouldn’t be training Anakin, after all.

The Sith Master chuckles, and it is a horrible sound, like a chalk screeching against a chalkboard. It makes his skin crawl, and cold, pale fingers cup his cheek.

“I know you are the studious kind, Knight Kenobi, so I will satisfy your curiosity as to what you are doing here today”, the Sith Master says, and Obi-Wan’s eyes widen again when he recognizes Hego Damask under the hood.

The Republic is doomed after all, it seems.

“There is a ritual that grants unmitigable strength to a Sith pair”, Damask says. “By sacrificing a virgin, offering that purity on the altar, feeding the ritual with both semen and blood.” His lips stretch into a cruel smile. “Oh, I’m afraid you will die, young Kenobi, but not before being utterly defiled and humiliated. And you will die knowing your mangled body will be dropped on the steps to your precious Temple.”

Obi-Wan can’t stop himself from shaking, and he drops his head down. There is no escaping, not with two powerful Siths watching him.

“Fett, we are about ready to commence. Bring in the beast.”

Obi-Wan whips his head up and looks around, only to see a Mandalorian in full _beskar’gam_ bringing in- His breath hitches when he sees the beast. It once was a loth-wolf. It is now a sithspawn. The fluffy tail shed its hairs to grow deadly spikes, the fangs grew bigger, though the beast is muzzled with beskar, and there are the same spikes over its head. Its claws look even more viciously wicked. Its eyes are burning red, higher than the Mandalorian stands. Higher than any man.

The Mandalorian orders the beast to sit still, which it does, and eyes the two Siths through his visor. While they light up candles all around the room, dubiously illuminating it, the Mandalorian retrieves three jars from the foot of the altar. One, he spills into his glove, and steps behind Obi-Wan’s spread legs.

He bites back a scream when a rough, gloved finger breaches him, thrusting a bit and spreading what must be lube all over his hole. Tears sting his eyes when a second finger joins in, and the Mandalorian roughly squeezes his cheek.

“If you cry now with two fingers, what will it be when my Akaan mounts you?”, he muses though his vocoder, and Obi-Wan holds back a sob as the man roughly fingers him.

That same hand yanks his head up by the hair and presses one of the jars to his lips.

“Drink”, the Mandalorian orders. “It’s an aphrodisiac. It’ll help you relax and spill when the time comes.” A thumb hooks into his mouth. “I _really_ want to see how well you can take a knot.”

He lets him go and Obi-Wan grits his teeth, body straining, unable to meditate and step away from the pain – and it’s nothing yet compared to what’s waiting for him.

“We can begin”, the Sith Master says, standing face to face with his apprentice by Obi-Wan’s head, both of them holding pale fingers to the sigils, a low rasp falling from their lips as they start incanting.

Something cool drips over Obi-Wan’s hole, making him flinch and clench, and the beast starts to growl, sniffing the air. Metal clinks as the Mandalorian removes its muzzle and leads it to the altar. When it passes Obi-Wan, he can see its cock unsheathe – huge and pink, strangely ribbed from the alchemy that changed it, dripping pre-cum already, and bobbing with each step.

Oh, Force. It’s going to tear him apart. A cold muzzle touches his wet hole and, to his intense shame, he feels his cock start to harden. The aphrodisiac is warming him and making him sensitive, and the beast is sniffing around his ass and his cock- He cries out in surprise and pleasure when a large, flexible tongue laps at him, engulfing his cock and his hole all at once and sending pleasure zinging up his back.

“Please”, he begs, uncaring that he’s crying now, “please don’t, please!”

He cries out again, trembling and gasping, when that tongue plunges into him, impossibly deep, opening him up further and wetting him until he’s dripping. He’s so hard it makes him want to cry and beg for someone to touch him, but no one does, and still the sithspawn licks into him, pulling back to lap at his rim, at his thighs, his balls – never his cock again, the Mandalorian forbids it to.

A whistle and a sharp order, and the beast shifts back. Dread pools down into his stomach, as he realizes _why_. His chains are lowered until he’s laying on the altar, which is cold and rough against his sensitized skin, and hell on his cock. The Mandalorian shifts them again, dragging his hips up and offering some relief on his cock, but it is not much of a relief when he gives another order and two massive paws appear on the altar, on each side of him.

_“Kandosii, Akaan”_ , the man purrs in his helmet, and Obi-Wan feels that monstrously big cock drag against his ass and between his thighs.

Rough, gloved fingers spread his cheeks and open his hole and- and the Mandalorian he guiding the sithspawn to his hole, pressing the blunt head against him.

“Please”, he begs again, his head laying on the smooth marble, “ _gedet’ye_ ”.

There’s a silence and- the Mandalorian barks another order, and the sithspawn starts to push in.

Obi-Wan can’t help it, he yells and thrashes in his bonds, feeling split open on that fat length, the creature, while Force Sensitive, not caring one bit that it is hurting him. The Mandalorian grabs his chains and presses his head down into the stone.

“Don’t move”, he says, and Obi-Wan sobs - and still, in spite of everything, his cock twitches up. “You’ll enjoy it”, he adds. “Anyone can be mounted by a beast. I want you to know you came while my Akaan pounded into you and knotted you. I want you to know the first and last dick you’ll ever feel is that one. And I want you to enjoy it, so you get a taste of just how much I _hate_ you, _Jetii_.”

There is no ordering the beast now anyway – its instincts have taken over and it is painstakingly sheathing itself inside Obi-Wan, dragging hard against his prostate and making his cock leak heavily onto the altar. He can’t stop trembling, his nerves sending him hundreds of contradictory signals – pain and pleasure and intense arousal, cold and warmth and wetness and the ever growing weight inside of him.

“Look at that, you’re bulging with it”, the Mandalorian smirks with spiteful glee. “Good job, Akaan”, he adds for his beast.

Obi-Wan pants. It has stopped. It’s deep and large, but it’s going no farther – he’s pretty sure he’s torn and bleeding, but whatever aphrodisiac he was given makes it impossible for his cock to go down, despite the pain and the fear and the profound humiliation. It has stopped, and when it starts retreating, he breathes in relief.

The relief is short lived, of course, as the sithspawn pushes back in again – but in a way, it’s worse, as the Mandalorian’s gloved fingers trail against his cock, making the pleasure so much more intense. The two Siths haven’t stopped chanting, barely glancing at Obi-Wan, but there is a feeling of gleeful impatience hanging in the air. They want him to come, so the ritual can be completed.

And then he will die. This is certainly not how he expected to go – it is not _helpful_ in any way, on the contrary. The thought brings fresh tears to his eyes – he hasn’t even begun to form a bond with Anakin. His Padawan will find himself Master-less for the second time. And he- Well. At least, he’ll meet Qui-Gon again.  
The sithspawn’s cock drags against his prostate, its strange ribs making him jolt with the unexpected pleasure, the pain somehow fading behind it. The Mandalorian’s hand leaves his head to drag down his spine with something akin to curiosity. The beast growls and the Mandalorian steps away warily, and that tongue is once again on him, licking up his painfully curved back, his nape and head and _Force_ it stinks.

He cries silently as the creature thrusts – shallow, sharp, clearly seeking its pleasure – and makes his own orgasm build. He’ll be powerless to stop it. Something starts to catch at his rim and, even through the Force suppressors, he feels sharp glee from all two Sith and the Mandalorian.

He can’t stop himself from wailing when the knot takes, the slow movements finally making him spill all over the dark stone under him. The Sith characters start to glow an ominous orange light and the beast bites onto his shoulder as it comes, filling him up. The pain is enough to shock him out of the half-floaty state he was in, and the creature releases him and starts lapping up the blood, nuzzling him gently.

He feels something _snap_ into place in his head, the Force-suppressants far from being enough to conceal it, and then- Then, there is a feeling almost like a voice in his mind. A Force-touch, warm and pained. And a concept, questioning, gentle. _Mate?_

“What is going on?” one of the Sith asks. “Why is the beast-”  
“It is returning to being a simple loth-wolf”, the other answers, curiosity clear in their voice. “I did not expect such an effect from the ritual… How fascinating.”

The presence in his mind seems to wrap itself around him.

_Protect. Mate. Mine. Won’t let evil hurt you._

Obi-Wan shudders, and tries to reach back. He can’t quite, barred from the Force as he is, and the creature above him nuzzles his head again.

That’s when something explodes and blinding light fills the Temple, and two armoured figures come in, shooting at the Sith. The beast pulls out with a growl, its knot deflated, and Obi-Wan feels warm cum leak heavily, down onto the altar, onto the glowing glyphs. The Mandalorian orders it to attack, and- and it does.  
It tears one of the Sith to pieces, while the two armoured men take on the other, and the Mandalorian, seeing the tide turn, is quick to disappear. There are screams and yells and lightning-shots, that Obi-Wan can’t quite see well. He’s too tired anyway, his body protesting, wracked with pain.  
As violently as it started, the fight stops.

“Sir”, one of the two says, crouching beside him. “We’ve got you. You’re safe now.”

The other unhooks the chains, and takes off the binds. Gloved hands touch his skin, and he flinches. Slowly, the man standing in front of him takes his helmet off. He has a scar around one eye.

“My name is Cody, sir, and this is Alpha-17. You are safe now.”

_Pack_ , the presence says, curling around him. _Better pack. Safe now._

The loth-wolf licks up his back again, and Obi-Wan reaches out to it. Pained and broken, tortured into insanity, changed into something _else. Pack gone_ , it seems to tell him, and he sees the Mandalorian and corpses and- _Pack here_ , it says, flicking its tail around the two men.

_Mate.  
Safe now._

Obi-Wan passes out.


End file.
